


The Misadventures of Sheriff Pichael and Deputy Belle

by A Melon Most Bitter (Darwise)



Category: HEARTBEAT (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Western, Friendship, Gen, Post-War, Science Fiction, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darwise/pseuds/A%20Melon%20Most%20Bitter
Summary: A small-town Sheriff and a prodigal bounty hunter are drawn together into an awkward partnership. Rated T for Mild Language and Violence.





	The Misadventures of Sheriff Pichael and Deputy Belle

Solum: A once vibrant planet teaming with life, now suffers from a rapidly changing climate brought on by years of war. While the Den sits untouched, entire continents have been rendered uninhabitable to only the hardiest of Mogwai, and the few remaining landmasses capable of sustaining life have become overcrowded, leading to territorial dispute, sharp increases of violence, and an even sharper decline in the human population. Those that turn away from the fighting in an attempt to restore the world to it's once peaceful state are known as Prospectors. A group consisting of Humans and Mogwai alike, they travel across the world, braving the dangerous wildlands, and salvaging ancient technology left behind from the old world. Cities and settlements that benefit from their discoveries are quick to fall prey to gangs of bandits eager to pillage hard earned resources for their own gain.  
  
To protect themselves from these vicious thieves, communities would take a vote and nominate the strongest and most morally just among them to act with the full power of the law as judge, jury, and should the need arise, executioner. Recognizable by their golden star insignia, these brave souls take their name from the lawmen of old: Sheriffs.

This is the story of one such individual.

* * *

 

The Sand Bar Inn & Saloon wasn't the most reputable of establishments, but it was definitely the kind of place where if you were to pull up a seat and spend a few hours and some yuan, you were bound to see something interesting during your stay. Pike Crocell had been a daily patron for many years, to the point where the proprietors always made sure to have a stool ready for her. As she stepped through the saloon doors today was no different. The crowd today was rowdier than usual; several werewolves sat huddled at a table in the corner, engrossed in a heated game of cards. One of them looks up at her and tips his hat as she passes by. Another one whistles and makes a lewd gesture with his hands, making eye contact as she scowls back.

"Sheriff, ev oui gaab cdynehk, oui'na kuhhy syga sa pmicr. Fro tuh'd oui lusa ibcdyenc fedr ic vun cusa vih? E'mm drisb druca kmyccac nekrd uvv ouin huca!"

The rest of the table howls with laughter as he speaks, and Pike shakes her head as she walks past. She doesn't speak Deep Den like some of the older Mogwai do, but it's clear enough by the group's reaction that she was the butt of some sort of joke. Another werewolf bumps into her as he joins the others at the table. She figures she could find a reason to detain them, but there's no law against being rude. She may be the town Sheriff, but in her mind, that doesn't give her the right to lock up anyone she pleases. As she approaches the counter, the Cetus polishing mugs at the bar tap smiles as she approaches.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Foras."

The Cetus in question rolls her eyes, and shakes her head with a smile.

"Sheriff, do I have to start calling you Pichael like everyone else does before you take the hint? It's just Nile; you can call me 'Mrs. Foras' when I trade bar-tending in for knitting and a rocking chair.

Pike grins, and moves to take a seat, but Nile quickly waves a hand and points to the stool three seats over.

"Sorry, but this one's off limits. You can sit over there."

"But I always sit here."

"Not today you don't. First drink's on the house to make it up to you, I get the feeling that you might need it today."

Pike almost questions the statement, but shrugs and instead settles herself onto the bar stool. Nile had a tendency to be cryptic with a lot of her suggestions and statements, but not once had any of them ever steered her wrong. An instance that comes to mind is one such time several years ago, when for her birthday, Nile had gifted her a pocket sized (but still absurdly thick) copy of the good book of Jared, which she vehemently insisted was to be kept in her left breast pocket. Later that week when the Sheepstack gang rolled into town, Pike had taken six bullets to her sternum while warding them off. All of which had gotten lodged firmly into the religious text, leaving her with some heavy bruises, but no fatal injuries. The lesson she quickly internalized was that if Nile Foras asked you to do something, it would always be in your best interest to do so.

"So, how is your wife doing? I haven't seen her in quite some time."

Nile grabs a tall glass and holds it under a spigot, filling it up to the rim with beer. She hands it off to Pike, who takes a quick sip.

"You know Ark. She's hardly ever in one place for very long. She's been helping out Tate and Avi with their prospecting, but they stop in every other month or so; they're actually due back next week now that I think about it."

"Hopefully I can catch up with them at some point."

Nile sighs. "If this is about the deputy position, then I can tell you right away that the answer is still no. Ark's not about to give up prospecting anytime soon."

"I see." She takes another sip from her glass, albeit a bit longer this time.

"I don't know how many years I can keep this up by myself Nile. This town has been real good to me, but you can only have so many close calls before you get sick of putting your life on the line. I need a replacement, or at the very least, a helping hand."

"All in good time, Pike. Thing's will work themselves out, I'm sure of it."

A loud growl from one of the werewolves interrupts the conversation.

"Rao, Cetus! Xied oybbehk yht pnehk ic yhudran nuiht!"

Nile mutters under her breath, and gives Pike an apologetic smile before grabbing several mugs to fill.

"I'll be there in just a moment!"

As she walks over to the table with their drinks, Pike hears the sound of boots thumping against the wood floor, with every footfall, there's a strange sound similar to a wind-up key being turned. When she looks over to her usual stool, she sees that a human nearly seven feet tall had taken the seat. As she took in their bizarre appearance, Pike cursed her luck.

For several years now, rumors had floated across all of Solum of a bounty hunter that had several of their limbs replaced with functioning metalworks. They were instantly recognizable by the strange clothing they wore: Pointed snakeskin boots with silver spurs, a pair of faded denim jeans and a weather worn buttoned-up duster in a pale shade of purple. Covering their entire head was a black featureless helmet with no visible eye holes. On top of the helmet was a bowler hat the same color as the duster. While some witnesses to claimed that they were a bloody marauder with no conscience; other denied such claims, stating that they were actually a traveling scholar that used the reward money from bounties to further their research. The only consistent eyewitness accounts with any weight to them all came from and old tribe of nomadic Cat Sith from up north. They claimed that the bounty hunter lived among them for several years learning how to live off of the land, and in return, taught them how to salvage ancient technology. When they finally parted ways, the tribe had come to praise them as a friend and protector. Among them, this nameless bounty hunter was known as The Redwood.

Said Redwood was now seated a few stools away from Pike. With a gloved hand, they tipped their hat to her, then gestured at Nile as she tended to the werewolves.

"Don't see too many folks up here that speak Deep Den fluently. Yer friend there is quite talented."

There's an accent there, but the voice that hits her ears sounds modulated and unnatural, like someone in an empty room trying to play a tuba that's filled with glass.

"Yes she is, isn't she? No one will say it outright, but she's the glue that holds this town together; we'd be completely lost without her around."

"Not to mention you'd be out of a dang fine watering hole. But where are my manners? I'm pretty sure you know what folks call me already, but aside from that pretty badge pinned to your chest, I can't say the same fer you."

"Pike Crocell. As town Sheriff, I feel that it's my duty to make sure that you are aware of the fact that the Sand Bar frowns upon bounty hunters and mercenaries conducting business in our town."

The Redwood nods their head, and chuckles.

"Ain't me that you gotta worry about, but I'll be sure to keep it in mind."

"See to it that you do. Now, is there something I can help you with?"

"Well, I didn't come all the way here for a little libation." they reach into their jacket pocket, and pull out a thick wad of yuan bills. "I'm here for information, Miss Crocell, and I have it on good authority that you might be able to help me find the people that I'm looking for."

Pike eyes the money with a frown, and waves it away.

"I'm not that kind of Sheriff. Just tell me what you need, and I'll try to help as best as I can."

"I appreciate that quite a bit. You see, I've been working this one fer a long time, but I think I'm finally hot on the trail. I won't make any trouble while I'm in town without your permission, but if you can, I'd like you to confirm somethin' fer me."

The Redwood leans against the bar top, and tilts their head to the side again, gesturing to the werewolves.

"Those roughnecks over there, they're part of the Marchosias pack, right?"

"Yes. I've been getting complaints about them for months now, but aside from a few drunken bar fights, they've never acted out in the open, so I haven't been able to get anything to stick. It's rather frustrating."

"And I'm guessing the big one with the scar on his lip and the potbelly is Hancock?"

"He is."

"And that skinny lil' slip of a Mog next to em' is Tracy?"

"Yes. Why exactly are you looking for these two?"

"Well that saves me a lot of time, you've been most helpful!" The Redwood casually ignores the question, and claps their hands together, making a loud clanging sound as they do so. "So! While we're here, why don't you indulge me in some casual conversation? You seem to me to have a good head on yer shoulders, and that, is something that's mighty rare to come across these days."

"Hmph. I wasn't aware that the so called 'Redwood' was such a peppy chatterbox."

"Well, you certainly don't get far in my line of work without bein' able to make folks talk! So come on. Slide a lil' closer, I know yer time ain't that precious to you right now."

The Redwood beckons her over with a wave of their hand. Pike relents, and scoots over one seat.

"That's the spirit!" they exclaim, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder. So, tell me somethin' Miss Crocell. Have you ever heard of the gang they used to call the Terror Trio?"

At the drop of that name, all of the blood in Pike's veins runs cold, and it's a testament to her years of life spent as a gunman that she's able to keep her composure. She readjusts her glasses, and clears her throat.

"I'd be remiss as the town Sheriff if I didn't. They were those three criminals from around thirty years ago. Why? Are you looking for them?"

"Thirty years ago? Why, most folks I ask only remember them being active for a bit less n' ten. Even less if you count their crimes committed outside of Piecewood. You know somethin' I don't? Or do you have somethin' you want to share?"

Pike reaches for her pistol, but her fingers grasp at an empty holster on her hip.

"Wasn't me. You sure somebody didn't swipe yer piece on the way in?"

It must have been the Mogwai that bumped into her a minute ago. Inwardly, Pike curses. She fell right into a trap without thinking. She sighs, grabs her beer, and chugs the entire glass. Nile was right, she was going to need this.

"So, which one of them gave me up? Wake, or Skip?"

The Redwood throws their head back, and laughs. They slap their knees several times before they calm down enough to respond.

"Oh, bless your heart! Well, you can rest assured Miss Crocell, yer friends ain't never sold you out; quite the opposite actually. They insisted that they were a duo instead of a trio. Whatever you did for them back in the heyday, it definitely inspired a lot of loyalty from em'."

"It didn't stop you from collecting on the bounty, did it?"

"Well, what do you think?" The tone of their voice makes it sound less like a taunt, and more like a genuine question.

"I think you're trying to bait out a confession."

"Miss Crocell, if there is one irrefutable truth that I have learned in my time spent on this little dust bowl we call Solum, it's that just like a one yuan coin's got two faces, every story's got another side to it. I'd like to hear yours, if you don't mind sharing."

Pike runs a palm through her hair, and grimaces when she realizes just how sweaty she is. There's little point in trying to run. Even if she could reach for the throwing knives hidden on her belt, there are far too many innocents in the saloon for her to risk hitting someone with a bad throw. Pike slumps into her stool, and lets out a frustrated groan.

"There's not much else to the story that you probably haven't heard. We were just a couple of deserters trying to stay alive; there was too much pointless bloodshed during the war, so when Wake and Skip walked away from the Den, so did I. The first few years on the run were the hardest, and we definitely did some things I'm not proud of, but we never took any more than what we needed, and we never killed anyone."

The Redwood brings up a gloved finger, and points it at her, shaking it to and fro while making a tutting sound behind their mask.

"See Miss Crocell, that's the part of the story that I don't get. For nearly your entire careers as outlaws, y'all stuck to nothing but petty crimes and misdemeanors, yet the very last one before retirement winds up being the one that earned y'all a reputation as cold blooded killers. You say y'all never killed no one? Then how do you explain the murder of Eve Xin?"

"That. Was. An. Accident!" Pike slams the table and swears through gritted fangs. "A terrible, terrible accident... We were passing through Old Snowver when a blizzard hit; Eve and her family were kind enough to let us take shelter on their property for the week, and we helped with errands when we could. Staying too long was a mistake. A day before we were set to ride out, some Den soldiers came to town, looking to haul us back in. Instead of running like we should have, we stood our ground. I still remember the look on her wife's face when..." She tries to finish, but is so choked up in her recollection that she grits her teeth, and ducks her head into her hands. It takes her some time to regain her composure. The Redwood watches without saying a word, though if they noticed that Pike's eyes were wet with unshed tears, they said nothing. "Things... might have gone differently if we stayed to help, but we were so scared that we rode off without ever looking back... We didn't find out that she died from her wounds until we started seeing the bounty posters. I left the Terror Trio a year afterwards, and I've been living here ever since."

"Well now, that's an awfully sad story. It's an awfully convenient one too. A soldier turned outlaw has a crisis of conscience, and starts a new life on the right side of the law as a Sheriff. What is all of this, your way of making amends?"

Pike shakes her head violently at the question.

"No. This is just the way that my life's played out. There's nothing I can do that can make up for what we did."

The Redwood is silent for a moment, then gets up from the stool to stand at full height. Pike does the same, staring defiantly at her would-be assassin.

"If you think for one second that I'm going to go down without a fight-" She growls. "-then you've got another thing coming."

"Peace, sister. I told you I don't you want any trouble."

Not expecting this reply, Pike blinks in confusion.

"You _are_ a bounty hunter, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am, I am! But I also do the occasional bodyguard job now and then."

"...What exactly are you trying to say?"

The Redwood places their hands on their hips, and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"For a Sheriff, yer not very good at reading the room, are ya?"

It's only then that Pike realizes that the entire bar has gone dead silent. As she looks around, she realizes that all of the patrons in the bar have left, leaving only herself, the Redwood, Nile, and the seven werewolves playing cards. One of them makes eye contact, grins, and opens his vest slightly to reveal her missing pistol.

"Shit."

"Mmm-hm! Like I said, ain't me that you gotta worry about. So, as a show of good faith, how about I help you get yer gun back?"

Before she can respond, the Redwood snaps a hand around her wrist and wrenches it behind her back. They start to push her towards the door, and though she tries to struggle, the grip holding her in place is too strong to break free. As they move past the table of werewolves, the smaller one known as Tracy squeaks out something in the old language.

"Frana dra ramm oui drehg oui'na kuehk fedr uin bnao?!"

The Redwood shows no sign of slowing down or responding, and Pike can hear the sound of a gun hammer being cocked into place.

"Outsetter, it'd be in your best interest to turn around."

The voice is a deep kind of baritone that demands the attention of all who hear it. The Redwood turns around and angles them so that they're both facing back towards the table. The larger werewolf with the scar has his gun aimed directly at their helmet.

"My name is Hancock, and that little feller there, is my partner Tracy. I'm not overly keen on bloodshed, but I can't say the same for my little friend here. Now, why don't you two have a seat, and see if we can't handle our differences like civilized beings?"

Shane snaps a finger, and everyone seated at the table gets up, forming a semicircle around both Tracy and himself. If the Redwood is fazed, they don't let it show.

"If y'all want to split this bounty, I ain't interested. I got her fair n' square."

"Fa'na hud kuhhy ycg ykyeh! Ced ouin yccac tufh!"

"We insist."

"Well, you heard em' Sheriff. Let's go."

The Redwood shoves Pike towards the table, and two flunkies grab her on either side, and force her into one of the seats. The Redwood takes a seat right next to her, and another two flunkies break formation to stand next to them.

"If this is how things are gonna go, can we at least get a pint? I ain't about to break bread with someone I ain't shared a drink with."

Hancock and Shane share a quick glance at each other, and the smaller of the two nods.

"We like your spunk Outsetter; Another round for our new friends!"

The rest of the pack cheers while Nile quietly slips back behind the bar, and disappears under the counter. Pike opens her mouth to speak, but the Redwood puts a hand up and speaks first.

"So, what are yer terms?"

"Fa dyga ymm ouin pamuhkehkc, yht oui fymg yfyo vnus drec dypma fedr ouin meva."

The werewolves all cackle at this response. The Redwood folds their arms across their chest.

"Well that hardly sounds fair."

"Outsetter." Hancock begins. "Can you actually understand what my friend here is saying, or are you just pulling my leg?"

"E lyh tu suna dryh zicd ihtancdyht ed, pek kio."

The laughter around the table immediately stops. The mocking mood of the room is gone now, replaced with a much more serious tone. Hancock lowers his gun, and places it on the table.

"Interesting. Don't meet too many Outsetters versed in the old ways."

"I get around."

"We may have a business proposition for you then. I need people with a knack for speaking, and you seem quite capable."

"Pucc, tuh'd pa nycr. Fa uhmo zicd sad drec risyh; fa lyh'd dnicd dras fedr-"

"Sounds to me, like your partner here is challenging your leadership."The Redwood interrupts Tracy midsentence, and Hancock growls. He gives Tracy a withering stare, but the smaller werewolf doesn't back down.

"It would seem that way, wouldn't it?" At that response, Tracy snarls and bears his fangs at him.

"E'ja paah ouin caluht eh lussyht vun vevdo oaync, tuh'd oui tyna damm sa dryd oui jymia fryd drec vemdro human ryc du cyo suna dryh ouin vammuf bylg pnudran!"

Pike watches as the other pack members begin to murmur amongst themselves. It was a clear challenge of authority, and now Hancock would be forced to either punish his subordinate, or look weak in front of his pack.

"Stand down, pup! Don't make me embarass you in front of everyone."

Tracy bears his fangs, and quickly closes the distance to strike. Before he can land the blow, a loud gunshot rings out, and the werewolf crumples to the ground, clutching at his wound and howling in pain. All eyes fall on the Redwood, who had fired the shot when no one was looking. No one makes a move against them as they reholster their gun, and sit back down.

"Mister Hancock, your beta over there just took a .38 calibur bullet to his brachial artery. If y'all wanna save his life, then y'all best hustle him on out of here. Quickly now."

The spell over everyone breaks, and the room is a flurry of action. The two werewolves holding Pike in her seat let her go, and rush over to help their fallen comrade. On the floor next to her seat is her pistol, and in the heat of the moment she dips down to grab it, quickly tucking it into the waistband of her pants before sitting upright. As the two flunkies carry Tracy out of the saloon, Hancock takes several deep breaths, trying to hide his rattled nerves. The other members of his pack mill about next to him, uncertain and anxious.

Pike for her part, simply watches the situation, and bides her time.

"You're awfully quick witted, for a human. I'll say that much."

The Redwood shrugs.

"Never mind me; what about you? You had a really close call there!"

Hancock slams a meaty fist on the table so hard that it leaves an inch deep indentation. Pike slowly lowers her left hand towards her throwing knives, and tightens the muscles in her legs.

Wait for it.

"Don't play coy with me! You think you can mess with my pack and get away with it?!"

The four remaining werewolves raise their guns, and aim towards the Redwood, who only kicks their feet up onto the table in response.

Wait for it.

"You think you can step into my territory, wound my right-hand man, and steal my prey you little shit?!"

_Wait for it..._

"Sweetheart, I'm taller than you. But since you keep askin', lemme tell you what I think."

The Redwood rises from their seat, and takes a step to the side just as Hancock fires his gun. The movement itself is so fast, that it takes everyone a couple of seconds to process what just happened. He stares slack jawed as the Redwood holds up a bullet between their fingers and flicks it back onto the table.

"I think that yer a couple of men short if you wanted to make this a fair fight."

**Now.**

Pike launches forward out of her seat, and somersaults several feet into the air over the entire crowd. At the peak of her jump, she straightens her body out, and throws down six knives in a wide arc. Two of them find their marks, and two bodies thud to the floor. With her right arm, she pulls the pistol out from her waistband, and fires a shot towards the remaining flunky, who ducks out of the way, and runs out of the saloon screaming. Another gunshot goes off, and Pike feels the hot lead passing through her calf as she crashes to the floor behind the bar counter in a heap.

The gunshots have all stopped, and the sound of furniture breaking can be heard throughout the saloon. Several seconds later, and the Redwood sails over the counter, crashing violently against the wall. Their hat is gone, their helmet is nearly split in two, and both of their prosthetic legs are bent at unnatural angles to the point of being completely useless. A robotic voice comes out of a tinny sounding speaker hidden inside the helmet.

" **Warning: Structural integrity at thirteen percent. System shutdown imminent.** "

"Yeah, yeaaah, tell me somethin' I don't know!"

The unmodulated voice that comes from the broken helmet of the Redwood is female, and much younger than what Pike anticipated. The helmet splits apart even more, followed by a thick cloud of smoke. Pike grabs the sides and pulls the rest of helmet away before the person inside can suffocate. A thick braid of frazzled red hair whips around as the woman coughs violently. Once the smoke clears up, she opens her blue eyes, and points a finger behind Pike's back.

"Behind you!" The Redwood shoves Pike to the side and out of the way as a bloodied and bruised Hancock grabs her by the arm and squeezes. When she smirks, he takes a deep breath, and roars right into her face. A sudden sharp pain shoots through his entire arm and he looks down to see several spikes protruding from his hand. He screams and tries to pull away immediately, but the Redwood clamps her other hand over his crotch, and he goes absolutely still.

"You like that? That's the feeling of 4 inches of retractable stainless steel spikes turnin' your hand into minced meat. Now If you didn't like my right hand did, yer gonna **hate** what lefty here can do. So why don't you just give up, and come along quietly?"

The pain is so strong that it's rendered him wordless, but he grits his teeth, and shakes his head stubbornly. The grip on his crotch tightens, and he falls to his knees, sobbing like a baby. The Redwood is merciful enough to retract the spikes from his hands.

"A-A-Alright... You win. I surrender."

"Good dog."

She lets him go, and he rocks back and forth on the floor, cradling his ruined hand. From her spot by the counter she turns to Pike, who at some point, managed to get back to her feet despite her injuries. She limps over to the Redwood, and stands over her. The glint from the chandelier reflected off the lens of her glasses, giving her a sinister appearance.

The Redwood, seemingly oblivious, laughs.

"Well, that was messier than expected, but I'd say we make a pretty good team! My legs are a bit of a mess right now, but if you can help me up, I can-"

Pike cocks back a fist and hits her with a haymaker so powerful that it sends her head bouncing off the floor, and she's rendered unconscious before she hits the ground a second time.

Pike flips her onto her back, and despite being knocked out like a light, her face is still frozen in a smile.

"Idiot." She huffs between pained breaths. "I could've handled this on my own."

* * *

 

When she finally comes to, shes layed out on a cot inside a jail cell. Her clothes have all been taken and replaced with a simple pink dress. She tries to sit up, only to find that her prosthetic legs have been removed at the attachment point just below the knees. Her arms are mercifully left intact, though she does note that she's missing her gloves.

"So you're finally awake."

She props herself onto her elbows, and looks over to her left. Just outside of her cell is Pike. She's hunched over on a wooden chair, reading a book disinterestedly.

"If you're worried about your belongings, don't be. You're clothes hanging out to dry, and I have some friends of mine looking over the damage done to your... 'legs'."

"Hey now, my handiwork-"

"Is probably not as special as you might think. If anything, they're more experienced with such things than you are."

She pokes her tongue out a the sahaugin, but pouts when she realizes that she's not even paying attention to her.

"So... what happened while I was out?"

Pike slides a harpoon shaped bookmark in between the pages, and closes the book.

"Before I get into that, I have a some information that I would like you to verify for me."

She reaches into her pocket, and produces a pen and notepad.

"Name: Belle Reed. Birthdate: Antila twenty-fith. Place of birth: Bowfort. True, or false?"

Belle opens her mouth to object, but the piercing stare that Pike gives her is enough to scare her straight.

"True."

"Age?"

"Thirty-eight."

"I might have believed you if you said twenty-eight."

"...Twenty-five."

"Thank you Belle." Pike nods, and puts the stationary away. She scoots the chair closer to the bars, and leans in close.

"So to answer your earlier question: you've been asleep for a full day now. Nile and I rounded up the rest of the Marchosias pack in the meantime.

"They're all still alive?!"

Pike furrows a brow. "Is this your first time going after a Mogwai bounty? You're either really brave, or really stupid." She lifts the cuff of her pants up to show that the spot where she had been shot had long since healed over, leaving a small circle shaped scar.

"If Nile hadn't come back with help when she did, neither one of us might be here right now. If you're trying to subdue a Mogwai, you'd better make sure that they can't get back in the fight. In any case, they're a few doors down, waiting for transport to Aeros Penitentiary. As it would turn out, there was quite a substaintial bounty on both Tracy and Hancock's heads."

Belle's eyes light up-

"Which the Sand Bar treasury has conficscated to help pay for the property damages inflicted to Mrs. Foras' establishment, as well as any maintenance fees incurred by your equipment."

-then promptly become despondant.

"All in all, everything's pretty swell right now. The only thing I'm uncertain of, is what I should do with you. Are any of the rumors that they tell about you true?"

"Well, I'll have you know, I did travel the world when I was younger, and I'm a lot more capable than what yer givin' me credit for. I am an accomplished bounty hunter in my own right!"

Pike rolls her eyes.

"Yes. You were so capable, that you let yourself get knocked out and thrown in jail. Now, about Wake and Skip: How do you know them?"

Belle let's herself fall back down onto the cot. She turns herself back towards the wall of the the cell, and sighs.

"They've been workers on my daddy's farm for years now. We always got on pretty well, then one day they asked me to come here and help you out with the Marchosias'. That's the truth. Said that you were the stubborn sort, and that I might need to finesse you a lil' bit to get you to go along with things."

Pike slaps a palm to her forehead, and drags it down her face.

"I didn't need your help; and the next time I see either one of those morons, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind."

"Yer welcome, you big fishy jerk."

Pike leans back into her seat, and groans. There's little point in antaigonizing her any further, so she decides to switch tactics.

"Do you want something to eat, maybe drink?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"So... I'm curious now. Was there ever a bounty out for us after we disbanded?"

"You mean the Terror Trio? Yes, and no actually. Not too long after they started working fer my family, there was a manhunt fer y'all that lasted until Wake personally went back to the Xin Estate to apologize on behalf of everyone. She came back home a week later covered in cuts and patches of frost nip; I'd never seen Skip so worked up... Eve Xin's widower called off the bounty shortly thereafter; said it was time to move on with her life, or somethin' like that. Y'all're still wanted in the Den for desertion, which is why the Marchosias originally came out to these parts; but when they set up shop, they got a little too greedy fer their own good and stayed."

"I don't understand it. Why would they send you instead of coming down here themselves?"

Belle turns back towards her, and rights herself into a seated position on the cot.

"Hey now, what's that supposed to mean?"

Her question goes ignored, and Pike sighs into her hands.

"Did they really think that little of me, that they didn't bother to come here themselves?"

Belle looks on at the Sahaugin busy feeling sorry for herself, and promptly decides that she has had just enough of that. She taps her fingers to both of her knees in a strange rhythm, and after a few seconds, the attatchment ports for her prosthetics slide downward with a quiet set of clicks and whirs, and extend themselves into two small, but completely functional legs. She gets up, and slides a pinky into the cell's keyhole. Once she reaches the locking mechanism, she gives it a slight push, and the entire thing breaks apart. Pike doesn't even notice that she's broken out of her cell until she's on her with a left hook. The punch connects, and Pike is sent stumbling backwards from the blow. Before she can react, Belle grabs her by the shoulder, and pins her against the wall.

"Aagh! How did you-"

"Payback for yesterday. Now shut up, and listen."

She squirms in the grip for the first few seconds, but once she realizes that she's not going anywhere, she relents and sighs.

"You wanna know why those two sent me down here? I'll tell you: It's because they don't want to cause you anymore trouble. The Den still sends folks after em'. Sometimes, they'd disappear for months, then come back lookin' like the living dead. It was like that for years, Pike. They've got a kid together now, and they can't go to ground the way they used to. But when word got around that you were actin' as a Sheriff in the boonies, they paid every grifter, every informant, _**every**_ rumormonger that they could find, to spread the word that you died years ago. That's their whole life's savings spent payin' people to cover _your_ tracks. And when that wasn't enough, they came to me. Because they cared so much about your safety, that they decided they'd rather bear the burden alone than put you through what they went through. If you wanna to do right by them, then you'd best make the most of your life, do you understand me?"

Pike nods silenty. Tears are running down her face, but she maintains her composure.

"Good. Now I'm gonna let you go, and I'm gonna sit back in my cell till I get my things back, then we can part ways and never see each other again."

Belle lets go, but before she can move, Pike grabs her by the arm.

"Wait." She gets up and faces her. She adjusts her grip until she's holding her hand, then gives it a firm shake.

"I appreciate yesterday's assistance."

"Why Miss Crocell, is that an apology that I hear?"

"It's just Pike; and don't push your luck."

The door at the end of the hall opens, and the two disengage from the handshake. Nile walks in, carrying a large duffel bag by the straps.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

"Not at all. Belle, this is Nile Foras. You may have seen her briefly back at the saloon."

Nile smiles politely, and hands the bag off to Belle, who eagerly begins digging through the contents. She lets out a low whistle as she pulls her newly repaired legs from out of the bag.

"I couldn't salvage your heads up display, but I did the best that I could with these legs. They don't follow any traditional schematics I've ever seen, so you'll be missing a bit of your usual height. I've got to say, This is some very impressive handiwork for a homemade job; though I am curious why you chose to make them so long."

Belle braces herself against a wall, and begins sliding the prosthetics back into place.

"Well, folks can't call me Redwood if I don't look the part. There; perfect fit!" Once the limbs are properly secured, she stands up, and frowns as she realizes that her head only comes up to Pike's nose.  
"Well, it looks like people are gonna be callin' me 'Shortwood for a while.."  
"About that... there's still the issue of settling your debt." Nile reaches into a small purse, and hands

Belle a small reciept. As she examines the expenses, her mouth goes slack. Pike watches from the sides with a sly grin on her face.

"T-That can't be right."

"But it is~" Nile replies in a sing-song voice.

"That's way too many zeroes!"

"Three-hundred thousand yuan is a very conservative number, and that's with the bounty deductions." Pike remarks. "Genuine wood is especially hard to come by these days, and carpenters charge at a premium."

"To say nothing of the favors I had to pull to get my hands on the minerals I needed for your repairs." Nile chimes in.

"Well, I don't have that kinda money on hand!"

Nile crosses her arms in front of her chest and smiles.

"Well that's perfectly fine."

"I-" Belle opens her mouth to speak, then quickly closes it back. A bewildered look is plastered on her face as she waits for her to clarify."

"I'm willing to waive the bill completely, but only if you agree to my terms."

"...I'm listenin'."

Nile takes her glasses off, and stares long and hard at Belle.  
"I'd like you to come work for me. No more 'Redwood', and no more bounty hunting."

"...What?!"

"It wouldn't be permanent," Nile interjects. "Just for three years. Of course, we'd compensate you financially. And if you like, you'd be more than welcome to stay on permanently."

"Not that I ain't flattered, but I don't really get why you're suddenly so interested in offerin' me a job."

Pike narrows her eyes. "Don't be coy, you know exactly how valuable your skillset is. You're fluent in Deep Den, and you know your way around a gunfight well enough to say the least."

"Which is why I'm a bounty hunter! Sorry, but I prefer to work on my own terms. You have my word that I'll pay y'all back, but I'm not stayin' here a moment longer."  
"You're not in a position to negotiate, you-" Nile raises her hand, and cuts Pike off before she can finish her sentence. The two of them exchange a look, and Pike sits back down in her chair. As she rubs her head in irritation, Nile retrieves a small datapad from the bag, and hands it over to Belle, who accepts the piece of technology with open curiosity.

"Before you decline, maybe I should specify the kind of job this is. I represent an organization of individuals that work to recover and repair relics from the Old World. On occasion, Pike assists us with some of the more... sensitive issues in this part of Piecewood, but as town Sheriff, there's only so much that she can do at once. Officially, you'd be working under her as a Deputy, but unofficially, you'd be working for me."

Belle taps several points on the pad, and the image of a giant craft is projected in blue lights against the wall. Several coordinates are listed, and as she reads them, her face slowly shifts into one of disbelief.

"...Is this what I think this is?"

  
"It's the location of our headquarters, and last remaining active spaceship, the HMS Tenebro."

"I'd always thought it was just a rumor... Wait. Those coordinates... that's right here in town!"

Nile nods, and puts her glasses back on. "Only a handful of people in this town know that we operate from here. I'm sure you've heard of mention of Prospectors during your travels?"

Belle shakes her head. "Just the name, nothin' more."

Nile takes the pad back from her, and presses down on it until the projection disappears, and is replaced with an image of a valley full of grass, flowers, and trees of all shapes and sizes.

"There used to be a time where Solum was full of life, and not the wasteland we live in today. Before the war, Humans and Mogwai worked together to help terraform the planet. That technology still exists out in the world; us Prospectors are the ones that work to find and repair it, so we can make this world a better place for everyone. Belle Reed, I'd like for you to become a part of that cause." The display fades away, and Belle takes a deep breath. The weight of the information given to her is clearly a great deal for her to take in.

"Besides the clean slate, what's in this for me?"

"Tch. Typical. Spoken like a true bounty hunter." Pike scoffs.

"Shut yer mouth, yer not the one bein' grabbed by the short n' curlies here! You might be old pals with Skip and Wake, but I ain't too keen on workin' with you."

Nile shrugs. "I think the agreement I've laid out so far is very fair. I can't force you to do anything... but should you decline, I certainly can't keep our town's Sheriff from detainng you for debt evasion... and attempted jailbreak.

The gun is in Pike's hand and trained on Belle before she can make a move.

"I'm not going to underestimate you this time, so if you try anything funny, I won't think twice."

"You...! I pull yer hide outta the fire, and this is the thanks I get?!"

"You bounty hunters are all business, right? Then you should be able to understand: you break the law, and I have to do my job."

Nile steps in between the two of them, and hands the datapad back to Belle. She places a hand on her shoulder, and smiles.

It's the kind of smile that a cat would give a canary before she swallows it whole.

"I'm sure that in the end, you'll make the right decision."

* * *

 

 

_Six months later..._

 

The noon sun is high in the air as three Rakshasa flee the scene of the robbery. Each one has a heavy sack of gold bars hoisted on their backs, and although their pace is slow, no one in town seems to be chasing after them.

"We did it, boys! We hit the big time!"

"You said it boss!"

"Yeah!"

The trio are nearly at the outskirts of the Sand Bar, when three bullets whizz past the leader's whiskers. Another one grazes his tail, and he trips. The bars he was carrying spill out onto the dusty ground, and both of his partners freeze in place. As their leader picks himself up, a woman wearing a Sheriff's hat and star, walks slowly down the middle of the road towards them; the barrel of her gun still smoking.

"Which one of you three is Big Boy Shawn?"

The other two point their tails in towards the lead Rakshasa, quickly drop their gold sacks, and take off running. They get nearly a block away-

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwww~!"

Before a pink and purple blur slams into one with the force of a small truck. The other tries to scramble in the opposite direction, but the woman makes a fist, and grins as it detaches from her wrist, and blasts off like a rocket towards him. It grabs him by the tail, then circles back towards it's owner, dragging him through the air the entire time. The small fry sees her other fist extended out for a clothesline, and starts screaming hysterically. He takes the hit with a loud 'clang', and is out cold instantly.

Big Boy Shawn, for his part, watches slackjawed as the two begin walking back toward him.  
"What took you so long?"

"It's called a stylish entry, Pichael. Might wanna try it sometime."

"I told you, it's Pike. Not 'Miss Crocell', not 'Pichael'. Just. Pike."

"You wanna keep jawin', or do you wanna bag the baddies so we can go home already?"

The two of them loom over Shawn, and as Belle slaps restraints on his wrist, Pike leans in face to face with him.

"So right now, between attempted robbery, and resisting arrest, you and your boys are looking at ten years behind bars; so if you think there's something you can tell me that might change my mind, you should probably start talking."

"L-L-Listen, lady, it wasn't my idea! I swear!"

"That's what they alllll say." Belle quips.

"No, for real! Some gyochu paid us to rob the bank! She said that you two were out of town, and that we'd be able to make a clean getaway!"

"Well that's funny, because someone tipped us off that the bank was going to be robbed today."

Pike pauses, then looks towards Belle. She's already restrained the other Rakshasas, and has her datapad pressed up to her face.

"I already know what yer thinkin' boss, and I'm way ahead of you. I'm callin' Nile right now."

Pike turns her attention back to Shawn.

"This is not looking good for you. If we find out that this was just a distraction, I'll throw the book at you."

"I can't go back to jaaaaiiiiiiilllll!"

"Then tell me everything that you remember about your mystery Gyochu. Start with how you met her."

"Uh-uh, right! Well, we were coming down from New-Otecho when we ran into her on the road. She was headed in the same direction, and asked to tag along for safety. We started talking, then she made us an offer."

"What did she look like?"

"Real short. Couldn't see her eyes, cause she had these real thick glasses on. I-I-I can't remember anything else!"

"What about a name?"

"She never gave one out, but I think she might be a doctor or something? She had a big bag with one of those hospital crosses on it, and she was wearing a buttoned-up white labcoat. You know, like the one doctors wear? That's all I know lady, I swear..."

"Pike! Bad news!"

Belle waves her over, and Pike moves away from the whimpering Mogwai.

"What happened?"

"They're about to hold an emergency meeting in town hall; Someone's stolen the water purifier!"

 

To Be Continued in

 

Issue 01: Sheriff Pichael and the Mogxican Standoff!

**Author's Note:**

> Big shoutouts to Nikotine for providing an amazing take on Sheriff Pike and Deputy Belle! You can find more of her artwork on twitter (@nikoteenie)
> 
> So thanks for reading this far, I know it's a lengthy one! I've been working on this one for a bit now, and I'm hoping that this project goes over well. I know that some of the concerns will likely be over how some of the characters' personalities have been altered, but I'm gonna take this idea and run with it. This take on these characters is going to be a bit colder than what I'd normally do, as in this AU, things have been radically altered. For example, Pike is still calculating and somewhat dense, but is much less compassionate than her in-game counterpart, while Belle is still intelligent and family/friend oriented, but selfish, and far more cocky and reckless. They'll be plenty of changes to the cast. Some overt, and others subtle, but I hope you'll like them in time.  
> And if you're concerned about this one taking a dark tone, don't be! The reason this chapter is labeled "Issue 00," is because I wanted to get the heaviest stuff out of the way. I want this to be a light-hearted adventure story with a couple of serious moments here and there!  
> As always, comments, suggestions, criticisms, and everything in between are both appreciated and encouraged!
> 
> Oh, and for anyone that wants to translate the Deep Den Language into something readable, you can use this : https://stephenw32768.appspot.com/albhed/  
> Don't worry, it's not something that's gonna show up a whole bunch.


End file.
